Two Poems
Dream Spies
Dreams send intimate informants
my personal crew of spies
who tease me with bits
and pieces
of mirror. As I lie dormant
REM sleep quivering closed eyes
theater opens: hits
and misses
slapstick comedies that torment
suitcase falls open goldfish
drowns in air mother knits
burial dress
I’ve crashed a smoking room for men
only. Am I in disguise?
I’m offered benefits
a free pass
Dreams hire an all-night doorman
for an electric door sky-high
sliding in place. It’s
an address
I can’t quite read windblown form in
sand strange gods revise
clues to infinites
tides erase.
Abel: The First Funeral
Entwine large-leafed vine,
sheath him well. In death,
wrap with life. Stem-sap
laves, scents. Fresh green saves,
eases eyes, teases
memories, stories.
Braid a cord to each side.
Scale horizontal
ground to his length. Pound
clay, sever roots. Lay
what was, and is not,
softly down. The rough
walls powder and fall.
Brothers are authors:
civil war’s alive.
—Charlotte Mandel, Cedar Grove, NJ
